


I Am, And Always Will Be

by butterflycell



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Guitar, M/M, mildly domestic, shamelessly lacking plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflycell/pseuds/butterflycell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike always looks forward to heading to Harvey's for the night, but he's never encountered <i>this</i> before...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am, And Always Will Be

**Author's Note:**

> This was written quickly back in February after a random mental image I had. By that point, I had NO idea about 'Because I Said So'. I watched the film yesterday and fell head over heels in love with Johnny (Gabriel's character) so I decided that I would share this little ficlet I wrote in an email to my enabler. 
> 
> It's only short, but I thought now would be an appropriate time to share it! Enjoy!
> 
> (The title is from an Eric Clapton quote: "I am, and always will be, a blues guitarist")

It had been one of those days where Mike had been unable to get out of after hours drinks with the other associates. He'd dodged them so often over the past month that he'd felt a little too guilty to do it again today. Harvey raised an eyebrow knowingly and turned back to his work with a smile. A few moments later, before Mike had even got out of sight of his office, a text had pinged on his phone and he barely managed to suppress the grin. _**See you at 11**_. There was no arguing with that and the short sentence had kept him comfortably sober until he could slip out without seeming rude.  
  
As usual, he made his way across town and greeted Tom the security officer in the lobby before letting himself into Harvey's private elevator. He leant against the glass wall, watching the city sink below him as it rose to the condo. As the elevator neared Harvey's floor though, he started to frown. There was music coming from somewhere in the apartment, but it didn't sound like one of Harvey's records or the TV. It sounded... it sounded like it was an actual instrument being played. The elevator came level with the floor and Mike crept from the glass box, thankful that it never made much noise.  
  
He slunk across the floor and peered round the wall that held the kitchen on the other side, affording himself view that he felt was probably singularly unique. He stared at the couch, Harvey sprawled back, feet propped on the coffee table and head resting back. His eyes were closed and his fingers were running lazily across the arm and strings of what looked like an exceptionally expensive guitar, all sunburst wood and black edging.  
  
Blues scales and something a little like Eric Clapton were drifting free of the connected amp in the corner and Harvey's foot was tapping slowly in time. The look of absolute relaxation on Harvey's face was truly something to see and, mixed with how natural he looked, Mike was finding it hard to focus on the music.   
  
Clearly, he was more than proficient, music tripping easily and hypnotically from slow picking and lazy chord changes, and there was none of the stilted, harsh execution he might have expected from Harvey - but then again, his music collection was as prized as his signed baseballs and Mike knew how passionately he could immerse himself in the sport. Maybe it wasn't so surprisingly that with a guitar in his hands, he managed to fill the room with what could only be described as contentment.  
  
He was kicked back in flannel pajama pants and a cream henley, hair soft from a slow drying after being washed clean. As always, Mike was struck with the intense need to run his fingers through it, but he resisted in favour of the music. He recognised a shift in the melody, a tune he knew starting to collect and form itself. It was one of the many he'd been subjected to as Harvey challenged Ray of a morning and it was only then that Mike realised he'd developed a taste for it. He was under no illusion why.  
  
A movement in the edge of his vision made him very aware of the fact he'd been staring at Harvey's hand plucking at the strings and he glanced away, only to meet Harvey's eyes where he was now watching him. The music hadn't jolted of skipped at all. He was just about to comment when Harvey started playing something similar to a closing phrase.  
  
Mike pushed off the wall and paced forwards, stopping when he was behind Harvey, eyes still locked. A final few notes spilled from the amp and Mike bent down, hands cradling the sides of Harvey's face as he kissed him, nose pressed lightly to his chin. Harvey kissed back, a hand sliding round the back of Mike's neck to hold him place. It was upside down and a little awkward, but some residual effect of the music was wrapping them in a perfectly blissful moment.  
  
Mike pulled back, fingers trailing over Harvey's cheek for a moment, smiling. He grinned as Mike dropped onto the sofa next to him. He propped the guitar against the arm on the other side of him before pulling Mike towards him. Mike sighed and sagged against him - it had been a long day filled with paperwork and bureaucracy for Louis and he'd been waiting for the evening since the moment he'd turned up at work.  
  
As he lay there, slumped against Harvey, he couldn't help letting his eyes slide closed. His focus drifted to the comfortaing smell of _Harvey_ and the sounds of his heart beat and his breathing. There were a few, perfect moments where he was wrapped up in nothing other than Harvey before something started pushing in at the edge of his happiness, trying to get his attention. Harvey had one arm around his shoulders, the other across him, encircling him and his fingers were...  
  
" _God_ , you're actually playing the guitar on me!" Mike bolted upright and stared at Harvey, who didn't even have the grace to look guilty in the slightest.  
  
Instead, he shrugged, reached forwards and pulled Mike to him by his tie, kissing him in a slow, lazy manner that Mike briefly related to the blues he'd been playing - but only briefly. It took only a matter of moments for him to melt into Harvey, to the point where he wanted nothing more than to let Harvey manipulate him like he had the strings moments earlier.  
  
His last coherent thought for a while was whether coming that evening would be as perfect as the music had been.


End file.
